Home > Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(60)

Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(60)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Okay,” I replied just as quiet.

“High will make it that way for you, babe. You know it. Yeah?”

Something was wrong in the Club.

But I knew what Boz said was right.

And that was all that I needed.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

He grinned at me and it again didn’t reach his eyes.

Then he kept doing it and finally committing to it when he offered the bottle of tequila to me.

“Time for us to get smashed, gorgeous,” he declared.

I took the bottle from him and replied, “No truer words were spoken.”

Then I threw back a healthy slug.

“That’s my girl,” Boz stated, and when I looked at him, he had humor and approval gleaming in his eyes. His earlier look of uncertainty and disquiet was gone.

I’d done my job.

So I handed him the bottle and slouched deeper into the couch, slouching into Boz as he shifted to curl an arm around me and I shifted to curl my legs on the seat, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Don’t get comfortable,” he warned, giving me a squeeze. “After another coupla shots, I’m kicking your ass at pool.”

“The hell you are,” I returned. “We’re fifteen and twelve with me being the fifteen and about to make it sixteen.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ll see,” I muttered, sucking back more beer.

When I was done, the tequila was in front of my face and I took the bottle from Boz.

I also threw back another slug.

When I was done with that, my eyes hit on my man.

He was smiling at me, his smile content and not troubled.

I knew it before but I knew it even more then.

Boz was right.

Whatever was happening in the Club would happen.

But Logan would keep it good for me. It’d never touch me.

Not ever.

Not ever.

CHAPTER TEN

Finally

Millie

I SAT IN the back of the taxi, exhausted beyond comprehension, my phone to my ear.

“No, I’m good, Dot,” I told my sister, a complete and total lie since travel and jet lag were kicking my ass. “Is my car at my house?”

“Alan and I took it there yesterday, babe. Also straightened up a bit,” she shared cautiously, giving me the information and doing it not wanting to remind me why my place was left the way it was. “But do you think you should stay there?” she asked, then suggested, “Maybe you should stay over here.”

I wanted to stay with my sister and Alan and the kids for as long as I could stay with my sister and Alan and the kids since I intended to move as soon as I could to Arizona, and I wouldn’t be able to see them whenever I wanted to see them.

But I was wiped and being wiped and needing sleep and clear headspace to get on with doing what I needed to do were not conducive to having two kids under the age of ten in the house.

“I’m gonna crash at my place,” I told her. “And I’ll be fine,” I assured hurriedly, hoping she’d believe me even knowing she wouldn’t. “I just need to get my head together¸ start getting other things together, and maybe tomorrow night I can come and stay with you?”

“You can stay with us anytime, you know that,” she replied.

I did.

And I would.

For as long as it took me to sort things out with work, get my house on the market, and get the hell out of Denver.

“Right,” I said. “I’m almost home. When I get there, I’m going right to bed. When I can think straight, I’ll call you and we’ll plan. Okay?”

“Okay, Mill. Whatever you need.”

That was what it had always been from Dottie.

Whatever I needed.

And nearly two weeks ago, after I’d driven like a lunatic to get home after what happened at The Roll, packing like a crazy person, only grabbing the things I needed, all this so I could get out of there and fast just in case Logan got a wild hair and followed me, she’d again done just that.

Given me what I needed.

I’d woken them up when I’d made it to their house. Then I’d blathered and bawled, letting it all hang out, everything from what happened in Logan’s RV to Hop singing “Far Behind” and all the rest.

As he listened, Alan, a good man, a good husband, a guy who loved his wife like crazy and loved her sister, too, had kept it together by the skin of his teeth. I knew he was close to ballistic. That ballistic being hunting Logan down and giving it his all to beat the crap out of him (which would be an interesting scenario, as Alan was a badass so it would be a close match, though I suspected Logan would fight dirty).

But he didn’t lose it because at that moment he needed to be all about me and doing what he could to help his woman help her sister.

And that he did.

Dottie had kept it totally together, as usual, and got online to get me covered.

She’d also let me borrow things to take with me. Once sorted, something that at Dottie’s hand didn’t take long, we got in the car and she stole me away to the airport.

It had taken ages but I’d eventually landed in France. I’d then had my first vacation since... ever... doing it the first week communicating liberally with Claire, Justine, Dottie, and various clients. I did this with the girls so they had my work covered (it took all of them pitching in... and they all did, loved my girls and owed them huge).

I’d also phoned my parents in Arizona and sorted that out.

Then I’d found a real estate agent.

Last, I’d had several in-depth conversations with Claire, who had been with me a long time, who knew what she was doing, demonstrated this repeatedly over the years but did it more by covering my shit while I took off to another country and had a mini nervous breakdown.

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